The following letter is an extract from Letters of Love: Words from the heart penned by prominent Australians, published by Affirm Press in partnership with the Alannah & Madeline Foundation. All profits from book sales go directly to the Alannah & Madeline Foundation.

Dear Mae,

I was wishing for you before you even existed. When Mum told me that a new baby was going to join the family I wished for you. I wished for you on falling leaves, and first stars, and wishbones. I wished for you on streetlights and eyelashes. When the call came from the hospital that you’d been born, you’d lived so long in my heart that I wasn’t even a bit surprised to hear I had a sister. Of course I did, I’d wished for you, and here you were.

I don’t remember much about our childhood together – I hope I was a good sister to you. Here’s what I remember most:

• Wearing matching outfits and loving it
• Doing your hair in the mornings before we went to school
• You waking me up in the middle of the night convinced there was a monster outside (it was a possum devouring the peach tree)
• Sharing a bedroom at Dad’s and laughing at the way a new piece of furniture showed up in it on nearly every visit
• That stupid robot at the family restaurant we always went to, and how it greeted us by name, ‘LYE-ANN’ and ‘MAHR-EE’

I went overseas after I finished year 12, and when I came back you were a young woman – self-possessed, proud, strong, and tall (but not taller than me, thank you for that). I was staggered to discover how courageous you were – you always stood up to bullies, a skill I still haven’t quite mastered, and you were fierce in your protection of the small, the weak, the voiceless. You were less careful with yourself, and it infuriated me to see you brought low by people so undeserving of your love. I wanted to ride into the fray for you, but you were – and are – too generous of heart, always seeking out the kernel of good and forgiving and forgiving and forgiving. I’m not nearly as honourable, and I want you to know how much I appreciate the way you strapped the armour to your sore and battle-weary body so you could travel to the other side of the world and fight my dragons when I needed you most. You were in the midst of your own war, and it’s one I know you’ll be fighting for the rest of your life.

In 2012, 68,288 people were diagnosed with cancer. You, my darling sister, were one of them. Stage four, metastatic colorectal cancer, because God knows you’ve never done anything by halves. The survival chances aren’t good. Are bad to the point of being inconceivable. I know that now, though at the time I avoided the statistics as fiercely as I could. Our brother – whose strongest coping mechanisms involve learning and understanding cold hard facts – immersed himself in researching this malignant beast that had inhabited you, and seeing him cry is still the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

Here’s what I remember most:

• The smell of the hospital
• The origami animals your husband made you for every day you spent in there
• The way you managed to make us laugh by saying that it was typical you couldn’t get something glamorous like breast cancer, you were going to die of butt cancer
• Being helpless
• Being helpless
• Being helpless

I wanted to fight this for you more than anything else in the world, but I couldn’t even understand the scope of what you were going through. The surgery, the recovery, the terrible, sickening chemotherapy. The doors that slammed shut on futures you once thought were certain. And you stood up and faced each blow head-on.

I said you were courageous, but the word isn’t big enough for what you are. I am in awe of you. It’s been four years, four months, and 11 days since your diagnosis, and you’re still proving how extraordinary you are. You’re studying to be a vet, living on the other side of the country, and throwing yourself into creating new paths to walk down.

Me, I went back to wishing.

Here’s what I’m wishing for:

• You

All my love,
Your big sister, Lian

Lian Hingee is Readings’ digital marketing manager and a body positive fashion blogger based in Melbourne.